Chasing elk in New Zealand’s high country

My trips to Canada, Montana and a planned trip to Wyoming were made with one objective, elk. Both my Canada and Montana trips were great, but my objectives were not met. The Wyoming trip was thwarted by the Covid-19 outbreak. Leaving me to question if my objective had become my nemesis.

Father time is gaining momentum, I am currently into my 71st year with my body beginning to show signs of wear and at times downright letting me down. Some years back, I was diagnosed with having peripheral neuropathy which, in layman’s terms, is the loss of feel for where your feet are and the ability to balance on uneven ground. Not good when hunting, particularly in thick undergrowth or ground covered in stones. Of course, much of the country I now have difficulty navigating is the type of terrain elk call home, placing me in the quandary of what to do about achieving my goal.

Life has ways of changing your direction in an instant. One afternoon I was sitting at my computer when an email arrived from Waitoi Creek Trophy Hunting’s chief guide, Nathan Simmons. He put forward an offer for an elk, at what could only be described as an excellent deal, but in New Zealand… still very hard to refuse. Having piqued my interest, I began to ask questions about the hunt. By memory I was told the area of the hunt was above the landowner’s property to stretch 6km one way and 2km the other. Quite a vast area for anybody to hunt, particularly in NZ. It may not be purely free range but what is the difference to hunting in Queensland, where we have no public land hunting at all?

The property sits in the Otago Mountains, which reach to the skies, featuring light foliage and adequate terrain for closing the gap on prospective trophy animals. Before not too long, a decision was made and I flew to NZ, getting picked up in Queenstown where I met another two Aussies, Batman and Radar. It wasn’t difficult to work out how Radar had picked up his moniker – the only thing missing was the teddy bear, but Batman, I have no idea of the story.

Both are affable men, long-distance truckies with many a tale to tell, good and bad, of Australian road users. Batman and Radar were repeat clients of Waitoi Creek Trophy Hunting, each after numerous animals, including a NZ whitetail. Which, after many hours of playing cat and mouse, they accomplished. Tagging along I listened to their banter, admiring such a unique and strong friendship.

Once the whitetail had been taken care of, we moved to elk country. This required wending our way through canyons and up steep escarpments to where the mountains plateaued out to form a huge bench. Then, more mountains in front of us. It reminded me very much of Wyoming country, where I hunted pronghorn antelope and saw elk, sparking my desire for a second trip there. The huge rocky outcrops, from a distance, look like a series of lost cities.

Up above the snowline, where tussock grasses were the predominate flora, I remember looking and wondering just how we would close distances to target elk without the cover of trees etc. Mother Nature came to the rescue and as we proceeded, we could see the various folds in the ground. These would be used, by hunter and quarry, as a means of remaining unseen.

Batman was the first to see an animal he wanted to pursue. A magnificent specimen, laying on the ground, bugling his presence to all that might listen. We had been glassing out to 1000m. There were a couple of good bulls in a mob but nothing quite like the one laying while bugling. A decision was made to sit and wait for him to stand, enabling Batman to assess the antlers.

Time was swallowed quickly while we waited for the goliath to stand, and when he did, he began bugling in earnest. Batman’s decision was made, this was the animal he had returned to NZ for. Implausibly the stag turned and began trotting towards where the hunter sat in wait. Closing the gap from 650m to 80m, Batman’s shot was true, downing the beast for the count.

As we closed in on the kill, another bugle broke the silence. I turned to seek its source, seeing tips of antlers dancing above a slight dip in the ground paralleling a distant wallow. Stopping, I raised my binos and watched as another bull appeared in my sight picture, from my right. As the bugling bull emerged from behind the small ridge to the rear of the wallow, his body size took shape, and he was huge. The two bulls came face to face, only metres apart, dropping their heads as if to offer a challenge to one another.

Without touching antlers, they departed for their separate ways. By now I had the attention of John, the property owner. John began glassing the bugling bull. I slipped in beside him and asked his opinion of the quality of the behemoth in front of us, now approximately 400m away. With “360+” his call, he then asked: “Would you like to take him?” A no brainer, I would love to take him!

With little to no cover, we slowly walked towards the elk, who by now was contemplating a wallow. The last thing I needed was to wrestle with a wet cape, so we made haste to take up shooting position. After firing, the elk’s rear legs went down and its head flung back, rolling itself backwards.

As he rolled backwards, the tip of his left antler met Mother Earth. I was waiting for the telltale crack of a broken tine but fortunately the earth was moist and soft enough for the antler to flick up a shower of dirt without breaking a point. John and Nathan now had quite a job ahead of them, with two downed elks.

As I slowly walked over to my elk, I realised what a magnificent animal I had just taken. I have seen a lot of large deer in my hunting life, but nothing can compete with what lay in front of me. The sheer body size was amazing, sporting a huge head and a beautiful mane. After photographing the animal where it dropped we, with great difficulty, slowly turned the elk over, maneuvering it into position for more photos using the terrain he walked along and the wallow as a backdrop.

By the time John and Nathan finished caping Batman’s elk, then came back to help me, I had most of the caping done. Nathan finished it off as light was fading, drawing an end to another day of our hunt. Heading back to the lodge the banter had slowed somewhat, as satisfaction mixed with hunger pangs began to mount. John and Nathen dropped us off at the lodge, taking the processed elk goods to the cool room. Us weary hunters retired to the lounge to ‘whet the elk’s head’ with a whisky. When our guides returned, we sat down for a well-earned meal.

The following day we were back in elk country, but word of our presence must have been spread throughout the land as the elk were few and far between. We stopped and glassed the plains and mountains, seeing two elks but nothing suitable for Radar. As we glassed one of many areas, four fallow bucks were spotted making a hasty retreat. The red fallow buck in front was a taker but Batman was keen on taking a black or chocolate stag. This would have to be put on hold for now, as Radar wanted his elk.

As we were about to move on, a solitary bull was spotted. Although he was about 1000m away, he was worth a closer look. We moved forward, closing the gap to about 400m and raised our binoculars in unison. Within seconds, Radar said: “He has a whale tale, that’s what I want.” As oft is the case in the mountains, the wind was tricky, soon carrying our scent to the elk. Instantly, the previously passive bull came to attention, suddenly turned and began quickly disappearing over a ridge line. Instead of following him, we paralleled the mountain. By the time we saw him again, he had settled and was back to feeding, unaware of hunters approaching.

Eventually, Radar was in position to take a shot but the bull, sensing danger, lifted his head and scanned the country we were in. About-turning, he meandered back the way he had come… making one fatal mistake… he stopped to look back. Radar drove a bullet into his lungs, the bull staggered forward, stopped and his front legs stiffened as he coughed while his rear legs wobbled and he went down.

As the bull’s front end was pointing downhill, when its legs collapsed it caused the antlers to drive into the mountainside, where he skidded to a halt. I looked out over the terrain; we could have been halfway round the world in Wyoming. The view was so familiar, but we were in NZ’s South Island. Climbing the hill to the downed bull, I couldn’t help but think how blessed we are as Australians to have this beautiful island nation as our neighbour.

Though none of the animals we took were native to NZ, the country provides Australians an affordable option, as opposed to travelling halfway round the world and back, to hunt a unique species. The hunts can be tailored to your desires and made as easy or difficult as you wish.

Furthermore, John has spent a lifetime studying elk. By talking to him and understanding the way he goes about his hunts, I learnt more about elk in a week than on both my previous elk hunts. Nathan is a great host and guide who caters to your every need, with a good sense of humor to boot. Will I go back to Waitoi? You betcha!